


Fragments

by elkcrossing



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 22:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17755025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elkcrossing/pseuds/elkcrossing
Summary: It is commonly said that your life flashes before your eyes in dangerous situations. But, when Beth walked into her dining room to find Rio, she was struck most with a new perspective on her life rather than a sequence of memories.





	Fragments

Beth had been a quiet child. Well-behaved and obedient, if not slightly spoiled. Before a traffic collision took Maggie Marks' life, she liked to remind her daughter of that fact. When Beth had been a child, it had sounded close to a compliment. Later, it would come across as a rebuke; a reminder of what, of who Beth ought to be. It is these familiar words most often rattling around Beth's head nowadays, even now, as her eyes begin to dry, her muscles relax... a gun clutched in her hand. Quiet child, well-behaved, obedient.

Before Annie had come along, Beth's life had been simple and measured. Margaret Marks took great pride in her reputation as a full-time mother, head of the Neighbor's Association, soloist in the church choir - and she expected the same for her daughter. She wanted offspring that could be molded, shaped, her life planned for her before the conception had even taken. Early on, Beth learned it was the only way to make her mother happy.

She spoke and smiled and dressed and walked and listened the way her mother told her to. She was an integral member of the church community and joined every club at school she thought her mother might approve of. She swam and danced and debated and played piano, protected her position as student treasurer with sweet smiles and cupcakes, all the while with an A-average. Beth's youth was a mindless race, a constant chase of approval, and it became impossible to shake off her mother's drive. The voice in her head took on Maggie's cadence, and it would never quite lose that tone.

It was not that Beth did not feel loved at home - she knew her mother and father cared deeply for her, but it was in a detached and conditional manner that kept her on guard. Maggie Marks wanted her daughter to be perfect, but before too long Beth Marks needed to be perfect. If she ever missed a moment where her mother might smile and nod proudly at her, be it a grade or a solo or a part, her throat would ache and she skin would itch until she felt like screaming.

Beth would be in her (very) late thirties before she could appreciate the life she had trapped herself in. Her self-reckoning began the day that sales associate dangled floss parading as underwear in front of her, when she understood what her marriage had become. She had spent her life compromising her desires to please others, and that fury saw her through a burgeoning life of crime. She should struggle more with the guilt Ruby carries, or the terror Annie shoulders. She should think on the risks, the consequences, or even Dean. Instead, giddily, she reflected on how appalled her mother would be.

Bob Marks had been a good man (Does she know anymore what that means anymore, Beth thought, wildly?), but less present in his daughter's life. He had twelve years on his second wife, and what he had been prepared for was a peaceful home life that could exist in the background of his career. Maggie had full run of the house, their daughter, even the neighborhood, while Bob's focus could stay at work. For that, his love for Maggie was quite sincere. 

"You were married to someone before mother?" Beth asked, once, at the dinner table one night.

"Yes, I was, Bethy," her father chortled, leaning towards her with a conspiring wink, "and she wasn't half the woman you mother is." Maggie shook her head gently and smiled while Bob laughed, placing the pot roast on the table. 

Annie was the wild child, the unforeseen addition that rocketed into the Marks family when Beth was ten. Their parents never quite forgave one another for the pregnancy, her father's 'defective' vasectomy ('I'll sue the bastards, Mags you be sure of that!') and her mother's refusal to 'be reasonable' ('You can't be serious, Bobby, we go to mass every Sunday, it just isn't possible'). The Marks family had been planned for one manageable child, and neither were prepared for the firecracker that was Annie. But Beth was old enough to babysit, and so became as much a mother as a sister to Annie.

Dean was not truly a surprise, now that Beth genuinely reflected on it. They were seniors in high school, she was beginning to bow under the pressure, and the urge to scream never gave her any peace. Dean was silly and sweet to her, expected almost nothing from her when her family wanted the whole world. She was able to breathe a little easier around him, lose herself in soft kisses behind the bleacher and draping his letterman jacket around her shoulders on game days.

They were a perfect couple, at every dance, at church, to their parents. Beth's mother breathed a sigh of relief, fiercely proud of the candidate her daughter had brought home. Why wait to be married? she would ask Beth after Dean proposed at graduation, so Beth did not. She was eighteen and a college freshman, but the weight of Dean's ring lessened, knowing how happy it made her parents. They were struggling enough to get Annie through primary school, and they did not need Beth to start having doubts.

The Maggie died, suddenly and brutally on Sunday evening, on her way home from grocery shopping. A malfunctioning traffic light caused confusion, impatience, but at the very least she died instantly, the doctor reassured the Marks family. Annie wept loudly, Bob braced himself on the wall. A newly pregnant Beth could only state at the starch whiteness of the doctor's coat, soaked in blood. Dean stood silently, awkwardly behind her, feebly patting Annie's arm. Annie socked him in response - she had never like Dean. Would never.

Only a few years later, Bob had a stroke. He could not cope being on his own, having to care for himself proved to be too much. He refused a caregiver, so Beth moved back in to help, fielding terrified calls from her sister, and irritated ones from Dean, unused to her absence. Maybe that is when she began to falter, without her mother there to watch her. She lost whatever drive she had relied on her entire life, and that itch began to build under her skin.

"You remind me of her," Bob whispered on his death bed, trapped inside the hospital he had spent months avoiding.

"Mother?"

"No. My first wife, she looked the same. Trapped."

Beth shook her head, "Dad, what are you talking about, I love the kids, Dean –"

"Are you happy?" Of course she was, she meant to reply, but her throat suddenly closed; she could not find the words. "See? You'll hate all of this – one day you'll run from it. She did." Tears were trickling down his cheeks, and Beth fought the urge to panic, wishing Annie was there.

"Dad, I'm fine, I'm okay," she whispered frantically, grabbing his thin hands.

He never replied, died shaking his head at her, sadly.

It was far easier for Beth to bury this, to survive another decade, another two kids. She did not have her mother there to tell her how to parent, and Beth had to figure it out on her own. She knew she would never be as strict nor as orderly as her mother. Maybe her children would have been better behaved, more ambitious, had Maggie survived the car crash. She spent too many hours running between the four of them, maybe she never gave them enough attention for them to be as successful as they could be. Maybe their potential was hindered by their mother. Maybe Beth was the problem.

Dean worked more and more, citing business opportunities, financial concerns, their four children and a big house... how much of that was true? How often did Beth eat and drink alone because Dean was fucking secretaries and wiling away their money (his money - before Rio, she had never had any of her own). Had her father been the same way? Was she fated to be the fool?

It is commonly said that your life flashes before your eyes in dangerous situations. But, when Beth walked into her dining room to find Rio, she was struck most with a new perspective on her life rather than a sequence of memories. Rio's anger was not surprising, but his laughter was, the way he slid his gun towards her was. A gun in hand, Beth no longer felt the need to scream. She didn’t understand the lurching thrill in her stomach, a foreign taste in her mouth. Did Rio? There was a hungry glint in his eyes that darkened the longer he looked at her, but it did not seem dangerous.

"You got what it takes?"

A wild, animal part of her wanted to aim the gun towards Dean - this was his fault, right? She would never have ended up here without his indiscretions. She robbed the store, she went back to Rio again and again for her family, her children. Dean was the one who destroyed her whole world.

Except Beth knew that that was not quite true. Nor had it been for a very long time.

Rio was the smart choice - she needed to squeeze the trigger and empty the chamber into his face. He could easily kill her, he could go after Ruby and Annie (oh god, were they even safe?). His vengeance could reach her children, he could burn everything to the ground. She had to shoot him now. He had to die - this was the line Ruby warned her of, but she had to step over it this time.

Except.

"I don't want to," she said shakily, stupidly, carefully putting the gun down on her mother's dining room table. She kept her hand wrapped around it loosely.

Rio looked almost disappointed in her, "C'mon mama, you wanna be in this? Ain't you tired of standin' still? Do it."

Slowly, Beth took her hand off the gun. "I don't want to." Understand me, reach me, she thought desperately. She could not say it out loud, could not face what her words would mean. His eyes looked so dark from here, so feral.

Rio's eyebrows crept upwards, his head tilting slowly to one side. "You mean you can't?"

No, no, no. Beth shook her head quickly. "I don't wa-"

Rio's elbow suddenly shot out, cracking against Dean's head and knocking him to the floor. Beth screamed, her hand flew back to the gun. Rio sighed heavily and did not react, scrubbing one hand over his face.

"'The hell, Elizabeth?" he sighed. "What was any of this even for? 'Cause I wouldn't let you play with my money anymore?" He did not react to Beth's hold on the gun, seemed to have forgotten it still sat between them.

"You would've killed us." That made Rio throw his head back and laugh, loud and harsh. Beth flushed, but kept on, "you would have - shut up - I had to protect myself, my family -"

"Bull."

"-the way you looked at me, you wouldn't've let us just walk away, we would've ended up like your kid." Rio kept laughing, kept shaking his head.

"Ain't you somethin' else? This ain't the way you keep people from lookin' at you funny, darlin'," he said, nodded meaningfully at the gun in his hand. "You got scared of the life, got scared that you'd been left behind, right?" Beth did not reply, but Rio understood all the same.

"So, what now?" Beth asked, letting go of the gun and falling into one of the chairs.

"Beats me," Rio said wearily, "On the real? I don't wanna kill you neither."

"I'm touched."

"Quiet, Elizabeth."

"I'm sorry," she offered quietly.

Rio waved it away. "Maybe. We'll see. You need a closer eye on you. All of this was amateur."

"You still got arrested," Beth snapped, the emotional turmoil getting the better of her. Rio's smirk was a little stronger this time.

"You got a ways to go learnin' to set people up. I got a good lawyer, and your evidence was circumstantial and anonymous. I ain't gonna spend any time in jail."

"Why did they arrest you then?"

He shrugged. "Feds probably figured they'd beat the bush an' see what came fallin' out."

"Oh," Beth said, feeling foolish.

Rio smiled at her, like he couldn't help it. "Good try though."

"Where are Ruby and Annie?"

"Why would I know that?

"Rio."

Rio chuckled and rolled his shoulders, tension slowly bleeding from his frame. "Relax, mama, only you got a visit."

Rio flicked his eyes over her, and that appeared to be the most he was willing to answer. "By all rights, I should get rid of you. I can't let people think they can pull this kinda shit an' get away with it. Bad for business. This life's a balancin' act."

"And we're in the way."

"Keep actin' this way and yeah, looks it."

"Rio, please," Beth implored. She was still missing the words, how to tangibly describe what this meant to her, what she saw and felt when she looked at him. The thrill of her own freedom and independence, force and power. These few months had had a drugging effect, and some of that was tangled up with the younger man seated on the other side of a family heirloom.

Rio breathed in deeply, once, and narrowed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Who else is inspired by the new trailers?


End file.
